Christmas Miracle 2006

This is basically an elaboration on the last blog 5 Year Christmas Journey.

When I visited Singapore for the first time during 2005 Thanksgiving week, I totally fell in love with that spot. Their performing arts scene was growing, their food is just indescribably good, the weather was hot year round, the cost of living slightly lower than the San Francisco Bay Area, and the women were just hot and attractive all around! I resolved to make a life out there.

Back-story here:
When Brenda and I split up after a 3-year "live-in" relationship in 2004, I moved back home to where I grew up in Oakland only to learn about my mom's newly discovered battle with cancer which she eventually succumbs to in June 2005. My life takes a gradual spiral from July 2004 to a complete out of control crash down throughout 2005. My anger at God was at an all time high. My core church support group moved to Austin the same month that my mother passed in 05, and I literally drifted from one church to another throughout the Bay Area. I was accepted to a Master's program with Fuller Seminary but after a futile attempt in taking Old Testament and Hebrew two months after my mom's death, I dropped out. Eventually, I sent out a mass email renouncing my Christian faith in April 2006 and shortly after was led to an auto accident later in May. Luckily my saving grace was a second trip to Singapore in May where I met an agent with Fly Entertainment in Singapore. She said I needed new headshots and wondered aloud why my headshots were "still in black and white." I acquired new color headshots in October/November 2006 shortly after creating a network at the 1st National Asian American Theater Conference. What saved my already fragile faith was 1) an appointment with Dr Wyatt where he recommended that I read Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell, and 2)a visit to the Mosaic Church in LA.

Still, I was determined to move to Singapore especially after dropping out of Fuller.

Did I mention that when I went "church-hopping" during my May 2006 Singapore trip, I met this enchanting young lady? Ironically before I departed on that trip, I complained to a friend of mine that I've given up on the idea of meeting someone of the opposite sex who'll make me go "wow." When I met her at a church service one Sunday afternoon, I was continuously in a "wow" frame of mind throughout our encounter. Count her in as another "factor" in my resolve to move to Singapore.

So Thanksgiving 2006, with new colored headshots in hand, I trekked for the 3rd time in a 1-year period to Singapore. Took in new sights, caught a couple of live stage performances, re-connected with friends that I made during the previous two trips, and eventually returned to Fly Entertainment. Naomi from Fly agreed to represent me and assist me on finding acting work, and public-related work. While shopping around Orchard Rd, I took the infamous "Christmas Photo" where I'm flipping the double birdie.

When I returned to the Bay Area at the end of the first week of December, I thought I was going to say goodbye to everyone. I mass-emailed my "Two Turtle Doves" Christmas photo declaring "I'm Outta Here!"

Upon helping my friends taking care of their then newborn in San Jose, I came upon a medical emergency. The plan was that I would stay for three days and help my friends get ready for their trip to Hong Kong by caring for their newborn in their home in San Jose. What happened in day 1 was that I was dropped off in the emergency room of Santa Clara Valley Medical Center with a 103 temperature and a very swollen baseball glove-sized infection of my left hand.

The emergency physician on duty took a look at my hand and immediately checked me into a hospital room. My hospital roommate was this Jeckyl n Hyde character who had these extreme mood swings, and at that point, I was in violent pain with my left hand. I was not able to place any sort of pressure on my left hand whatsoever and even the slightest touch caused an immense jolt of acute pain. I was receiving IV antibiotics, hoping to awake the next morning with a normal hand.

The next morning, more pain and more IV drugs on me including morphine. The doctor examined my hand and upon the minimal amount of contact, shot the most intense pain. Apparently the anti-biotics did nothing to clear the infection, and I was immediately scheduled for emergency surgery that day. I awoke post-surgery with a cast and plastic tubes inside my opened wounded hand. It was the first surgery I've experienced in my life. Upon returning to my room, I found immense discomfort, pain on my left hand, and antagonizing taunting from my roommate. My reference God was nothing but a series of heartfelt consecutive series of four-letter words. It should come to no surprise that the more intense the declaration of four-letter words to God, the more taunting from my roomie.

Upon examination the following morning, the physician on duty merely shook her head in discouragement. A few hours passed and I was visited by another physician who explained that the next scheduled surgery the following week was amputation. An hour afterwards, the hospital social workers entered with a preliminary application for disability and a notice of transfer to a San Mateo medical facility to take place prior to the scheduled amputation. As a resident of San Mateo County, and without medical insurance, I was not considered a "priority patient" to the center and was treated in a demeaning manner from the hospital staff from that point on. At that point, I debated whether or not to leave the hospital without authorization and to end it all. I did not see a point to fight and continue to live since I lost so much during the past two years. The idea to lose an actual body part would be the straw to break the camel's back. When I was visited by the hospital chaplain, he was encouraged by the fact that I kept my Bible at my bedside. I asked for which verses to read and study, he gave me a Psalm to read, and upon his departure, I turned to that Psalm and spat on the heading, then closed the book.

I don't know what came over me while sleeping after that moment, but I awoke and grabbed my phone, text messaged with my right hand to those that I considered "prayer warriors" that my left hand is scheduled to be amputated that following week. Within a few hours, I received phone call after phone call of encouragement and prayer. What was surprising was to receive calls from the actual hospital phone considering I did NOT give the hospital number out, nor information of which hospital I was at. But the word spread that I was lying alone in a hospital with no family. That was Thursday morning, and I began to receive floral, plant and gift deliveries to the hospital room. I began to place my suspended cast on a wheeler and started to walk myself around the hospital.

When I received a voicemail from my Sifu about a scheduled liondance performance that coming Sunday, I returned the call explaining my absence. He was surprised about my medical predicament. The friends who I was supposed to help out that week came by to drop off a Christmas Ogre. It was some sort of green furry creature who "grunted" out a medley of Christmas Carols. In both sound and appearance, that "toy" resembled my taunting roommate, who quickly demonstrated his "likeness" to the toy while my visitors observed in amusement. When they left, every time my roommate attempted to taunt me from his side of the room, I played that toy and laughed at the resemblance of behavior. Believe it or not, he eventually tapered off in his taunting and the room gradually became more and more quiet.

Saturday rolls around, and I found myself to be in better spirits. I don't know if it was because I took initiative to reach out and received support or because I found the situation to lighten. Even with the issue of the scheduled amputation and the supposed transfer of hospital, I let that go. I remembered one call I received on my cell. I didn't recognize the phone number, but I answered it anyways. On the other end was this very determined voice. She identified herself as Lorreene. She explained that a mutual friend had called her a few days prior about my situation. She went on the explain that she survived three major health ailments and fully recovered from all of them through the power of prayer and told me with the most utmost confidence, "I believe that you will walk out of this hospital Monday with your hand completely intact. That's what I prayed for, and that's what I believe will happen." I believed her considering the fact that my belief in a Higher Divine Power was shot to the ground at that point. It wasn't more than a hour that passed when I received a call on the hospital phone. Irene was on the other end of the phone, and she was my training-mate at an actors' conservatory, landlord, and like a simultaneous mother and sister to me. She was en route to her reiki circle and wanted more details about my situation. She explained to me that the "ki" in "reiki" is identical to the concept of "ch'i" from ch'i gung (hay gung in Cantonese). She had been a reiki practitioner for about 3 years at that point, and was a firm believer in distance reiki treatment. She also explained that because it was a circle and there were more than one practitioners were participating, the power of the ki was multiplied. After I hung up with her, dinner arrived and as I was eating dinner, I thought about my Sifu who was a regular practicer of Hay Gung. Guess who knocked on my door as my dinner was being cleared? My Sifu arrives and asked how I was doing. I apologized for not being able to make it to the performance the following day and he simply said not to worry that they had enough people to help. He looks over my cast, places his hands around the cast and concentrates. He steps out and his wife enters the room to see how I was doing. Towards the end of our conversation, we hear this declaration without a knock, "JARRETT, WE'RE HERE!!!"

Melinda and Vanessa where these two young ladies whom I hadn't been in contact with for over a year and a half. They were from Oakland and were determined that they would have their pastor "bless and annoint" some healing oil for them to take to me. In other words, they trekked from Oakland to San Jose just to place drops of oil into the opening of my cast. They too made a strong conviction declaring healing. We then chit-chatted about what else we were up to since we last saw each other.

I awoke Sunday morning refreshed. The nurse entered in to open the cast and to clean out the wound. At that point she insisted that I clean out my hand myself instead of having one of the staff doing it. She glances over the hand before placing in back in the cast and says, "hmmmm." At one point that day my roomie started his taunt and I immediately played my toy and chuckled. His taunt was short-lived. When dinner arrived, I requested to the staff that I were to cut my own meat though my hand was still in a cast. When the evening nurse arrived to cleanse my hand, my lion dance partner Jan arrived and gasped in disgust. "Hiiiii," I declared. I laughed to myself knowing that my open wound grossed her out. I asked her how the performance went and who she partnered with. She then presented me with a box of pastries from Golden Gate Bakery, including my favorite duntats. For someone who was in a cast awaiting amputation, I was in Heaven. At the same time, those words from Lorreene kept echoing in the back of my mind.

Monday morning arrives and I'm awoke from the shift physician. He opens my cast, takes a quick glance and declares, "oh no, I need to find your physician to take a look." I was immediately in a panic after hearing that. I persisted on why the sudden urgency. His reply: "it seems that your body finally accepted the anti-biotic treatment. I need to have her take a look at this and maybe she'll release you home." He excuses himself, and I drop to my knees in the most highest state of relief and gratitude. Then an hour passed. Then another hour passed. Then lunch came. The shift doctor re-enters the room explaining that he's about to end his shift and the physician in charge of my case has been backed up and should be there "any minute now." He shakes my hand and wishes me luck. Each passing minute felt like an hour. Finally my doctor arrives, opens my cast, examines it quickly, turns to me, "you wanna go home? I'll sign the release papers." Within an hour life begins to re-fill me. Then I came to an overwhelming thought...

"how the hell am I gonna get back home? how can I get my car???"

When I was dropped off at the hospital, I left my car and my overnight stuff with my friends. I was there to help them out because the husband was out of town on a business trip and his wife needed me to help her take care of their newborn. They were scheduled to fly out to Hong Kong for a Christmas family reunion that Saturday which was why they came by that Thursday to drop off my overnight stuff and keys. However my car was still over at their home. Then my phone rang. It was Jan. "Hey Jarrett, I wasn't sure if you were still gonna be in the hospital or not, but I was visiting someone in the SouthBay. Did you want me to stop by, and did you ever find out when you'll be getting out?" I told her I was getting out "NOW." So within an hour, I was "wheelchaired" out of the lobby of the hospital. (Policy) Now it may not have been a big deal, however my partner Jan resides in the Central Valley, and rarely would she be in the Southbay area, let alone of two consecutive days.

Then during discharge I was given an appointment for physical therapy in San Mateo County. Also, I had to sign a release form stating that in the event the infection returns and because the amputation was cancelled, if I were to "lose" my entire arm or anything beyond my hand, the center was not held liable. Then they further explained that I would regain only 70% of full motion and function of my left hand within 6-8 months following the release, and I should be grateful for even that as that would be considered my "full recovery." I went to my acupuncturist that following Tuesday, and I was already at 70% of full motion and function within 10 days.

This photo was taken during Chinese New Year in 2007 about 6 weeks after I was released from the hospital:

I was hanging out with some friends one night during the time between the surgery and CNY. We were studying how this one film was utilizing green screen technology. That film we were watching was The Secret. If you were to tell me that I would meet in-person about five of those speakers who were in the film within a two-year period, I'd have a more easier time to believe about the hand predicament and healing since I gone through that. The truth is, I would've concluded that what was expressed in that film was a bunch of hot air and stuff to avoid stepping on had I not gone through that hospital stay just a month prior.

Was it the prayer? Was it the Hay Gung or the reiki circle? Was it the oil? Was it the acupuncture treatment afterwards? Was it what the doctor concluded that "my body finally accepted the anti-biotics? I can honestly tell you that the conclusion of the so-called medical "expert" is the one I least believe. Remember, I was receiving anti-biotics via IV packs since arrival that Tuesday, and suddenly my "body finally accepted" the treatment almost a week and one surgery later. Or was it my change in attitude?

The gift of a transformed attitude. If I have to meditate, soak in oil, listen to prayer chants, sit in circles, I'll do what it'll take to transform an attitude. To me, that's the REAL miracle.

Merry Christmas!

The 5 Year Christmas Journey

In Thanksgiving week 2006, I trekked to Singapore for the 3rd time in a one-year span, determined to create a new life there. Prior to the trip, I made new actor headshots, updated my resume, and obtained copies of So Beauty to take along with me. Upon arrival, I met up with an agent from Fly Entertainment and she agreed to represent me in Singapore. I felt like I scored an opportunity to move out there. I returned to the Bay Area around the 10th of December that year. While in Sunny Singapore, I shopped around and took a Christmas photo that I sent out to everyone: "Merry F*cking Christmas Everyone, I'm Outta Here!!!

I thought I was out of "here." (As in the Bay Area)

Upon returning to the Bay Area, I drove down to San Jose to assist in taking care of my niece for a few days while her father was traveling in Japan for work. Within the first hour or so, my friend noticed a swollen left hand and a high fever and eventually dropped me off at the Santa Clara Valley Medical Center. Upon examination, I was immediately checked into the facility and scheduled for an emergency surgery. Two days following the surgery, the doctors notices that my hand infection GREW and was spreading all over, and I was eventually scheduled to have my left hand amputated. I was pretty close to losing my left hand in Christmas 2006 which would've been a challenge considering I lost my mother in Christmas 2005.

This segment about what I refer to as the "2006 Christmas Hand Miracle" will be posted in more specific details in a future blog. I type this entry during Christmas 2011 with BOTH HANDS.

I auditioned for a theatrical certification programme in Singapore and was accepted in 2007. I then applied for a long-term student status resident visa and was promptly denied. While at the audition (July 2007) I learned that the agent who took me to represent me had herself an emergency surgical procedure and I was eventually dropped from the Singapore agency. My acceptance to the theater programme was my only hope to get into Singapore. I re-applied for a student visa THREE TIMES to the Singaporean government from Sept 07-Jan 08.

When I was introduced to PSI Seminars in the fall of 2007, I was reluctant to take any sort of courses from them. My friend who was en route to the Life Success Course then, challenged me such that if I was unable to secure a long term residence visa in Singapore by the 15 Jan 2008, I myself would take the course. So when I registered for the PSI Basic Seminar via phone on 16-Jan 2008 SINGAPORE TIME, there was a little apprehension on my behalf. Taking that course initially from my point of view, was an indication of "failure" that I was NOT "out of here."

At mid-point of the Basic Seminar, our class was given an exercise as a group. Upon completion of that particular exercise it was explained to me that the way I participated in that exercise, was the way I participated in my life overall. I was initially in denial of that assessment because I vividly recall that during the exercise, I was upset at another participant that I reacted by flipping the entire group off with the infamous "middle." I was also given a self-reflective homework assignment regarding the exercise, so upon returning home, I turned my computer on and what was staring at me was my "2006 Christmas Greeting."

Yup, that same photo.

So from March 2008 to now, I constantly looked at the way I interacted with people, making sure that my hand was in a position of giving instead of "that gesture." Nothing's perfect, however I'd have to say that after 5 years, I'm actually "showing up" more so during this Holiday Season.
2006 Holiday was the "Flip and Snip" hand theme.
2007 Holiday was alone and I "celebrated" over the death of a zoo visitor that year.
2008 Was a holiday where I learned to ski...and fell.
2009 Escape to Southeast Asia
2010 On Facebook, I acknowledged the Holiday Season with a solid black image on my profile.
This Holiday 2011:
For the first time since 2004, I cooked one of the main entrees (Thanksgiving)
For the first time since 2003, I helped decorate a Christmas tree
For the first time since 1999, I helped kettle bell-ringing on behalf of The Salvation Army.
On Facebook, I posted the "G-rated" version of my 2006 Christmas photo recently. I promise to, for the first time since 2006, take a Holiday photo of myself.

The Great I AM

The greatest gift to yourself is to accept, receive, and share the inner gift within to others.

Upon that realization, I came to the conclusion that as passionate I am about acting and performing, I really shortchanged myself by declaring that "I am an actor/performer/writer."

I'm much more than that.

I don't like the term "divine" so much because I found that word to be overly cliched and quite simply, overused within discussions of spirituality. I find it as overused and overcharged as the "G" word.

However, as a Divine Being, that's exactly who I AM. I'm unable to find others words to replace. It means to much to be a DB. But that's who I am in the purest sense. It's also who everyone else is in the purest sense.

Call it what you feel most comfortable calling Divine: "God-self, Higher-Self, enlightened self, spirit-self, blissful self, higher-power." That essence is not only our common-denominator, but it's what unifies all of us. Personally for myself, I prefer to use the term, "Imago Dei." (Latin for "Image of God") I learned the concept of Imago Dei within my Christian training, but I use it towards everyone regardless of their beliefs.

Going back to what I was originally going to say, by declaring myself as "JUST" an actor, or a writer, or a performer, or a public speaker really keeps me into this limited shield that prevents me from other opportunities. I understand that with most conversations, the initial question is "what do you do for a living?" That's when I trap myself by attempting to articulate an answer that'll make a favorable impression upon the person(s) asking me.

But answering in such a way does neither myself or the person asking any favors. I'm not answering from my "core." It's spinning an answer in such a way to make an impression. But doing so shortchanges everyone involved in the conversation, especially myself.  The thing is, what exactly do I tell people when asked that question.  I do work as an actor and I do get compensated for the work I do.  Writing is more of a therapeutic tool for myself.  I tend to be the public face for our performing martial arts group. 

But it's still not who I AM.  I AM that cliche: "spiritual being having a human experience."  Just like yourself.  Just like the idiot who waved the middle finger as s/he cut us off while driving.  (Though admittedly I'm far from acknowledging their Divine at that moment!)  We created a world that judges according to what someone does or doesn't do.  We're not created to judge.  We're simply created to just be. 

Maybe this should be on my Faith Entry page instead.

Unoccupied Mind

I don't get it.

I really don't. I understand our 1st Amendment right to publicly assemble, to voice our opinion. In fact, I'm adamant about that right as an American, and oftentimes I don't feel like I fit in as an American. With this journey of pursuit of growth, I truly believe in the empowerment of everyone being heard and respected.

Which is why I don't get the Occupy Oakland movement.

First off, I'm impressed that so many people are able to "CAMP" out in Downtown Oakland for this amount of time WITHOUT ONE HOMICIDE OR VIOLENT ROBBERY. I've heard that a sexual assault occurred at one point, which is damaging to all those involved, but I really have to give kudos that for the most part, it's been relatively safe for those who CHOOSE to camp in Oakland. Bear in mind that the campers were living outdoors within the city limits of the Bay Area city with the highest homicide rate. In fact 8 homicides have been reported within the City limits since the camps begun. Why wasn't the "hood" occupied?

Secondly, as a native of Oakland, I'm very flattered that Oakland is considered to be part of the 1%. I've grown up with so much negative reaction over the years upon people learning about my origins. This and that about violent crime, political corruption, unsafe area, not deserving any type of professional sports franchise because of having a poor economy, ect. Now Oakland is currently a 1% target. Funny, I could've swore Oakland was so broke, they laid off quite a few police officers, firefighters, ect. So OK, Oakland is part of the 1%. Good to know, that way Oakland can "save" their exiting sports franchises: Raiders, A's, and Warriors. (Hell, if Oakland was part of the 1%, you'd think the Warriors would've called themselves "Oakland" by now instead of "Golden State")

I hear the frustration amongst the protesters about the economic situation. I've worked very sparingly especially these past two years. If anything I'm lucky to have worked a total of SIXTY days during the past SEVEN-HUNDRED-THIRTY. The thing is I know camping out and protesting does very little for me. In fact, I believe occupying anything would work against me. All this talk about 1% hoarding the wealth but you're taking down small business along with you by blocking and driving people away from the area. In fact, based on articles and interviews there's an unapologetic stance against the local business owners. All this talk about representing the 99% which these small business owners belong to, and you're deliberately taking them down? That sort of behavior is no better than the supposed behavior you're protesting against.

So the question again, why are you occupying Oakland?

Of all places. I can understand Wall Street where all the major commerce eventually intersect. Even the Financial District in San Francisco. Why not Washington DC? or Sacramento? Or even the IRS? But Oakland? Back up the folks already at the Federal Reserve in SF.

This game of entitlement is played out. Notice that I don't condone the police action. I learned early in life that if a pit bull dog chases me out of an area, even if I'M IN THE RIGHT, it's best not to "take back" the area where the pit bull is located. If I'm nursing a bite after my attempt to "take back" that area, I'M THE ONE WHO HAS TO ACCEPT RESPONSIBILITY for that bite. No one else.

OH BTW, please do not take up any causes unique to Oakland as justification for Occupy Oakland. That's utter bullsh!t. Honestly the majority of you occupiers in Oakland don't give a rats a$$ about the problems with Oakland. Otherwise why wait until Wall Street and San Francisco went up first? Problems unique to Oakland, such as homicides, police brutality, political corruption did not just showed up right after camp started in NY and SF. How about Occupy EAST OAKLAND then? Set up camp in the Havenscourt area. There are a lot of people in Oakland who are actually honest and hard-working, who's struggling as much as you are. In fact, they're NOT the 1% you're protesting. Yet, they received another unwanted perceptive "black eye" because of the ruckus last week. Do you really care about them? If you don't, then from a moral standpoint, you have no right to protest the 1%, cause in reality you're no better than them.

RIP Al Davis

Wow, seems like this is the 2nd "RIP" entry I've done within a week!

What can I say about Mr Davis? I suppose I can share my first exposure and impression of him. I'll be honest to say that I did not see him in the most positive light. I was about 10 years old and my parents were irate over the fact that the Raiders publicly announced the news that they signed an agreement to move to L.A.

My father, grandfather and great-uncle, though not season ticket holders, would go to the game regularly. I was promised by them that once I reached the age of twelve, they'd take me along with them. Unfortunately the team had moved to L.A. A year after the team moved, my grandfather passed away.

So much for the grandfather-father-son bonding sports event.

At that time I also learned to read bumper stickers on cars and trucks. From 1981-1985, the most common bumper stickers seen on the back of vehicles all over the 510 area code (it was still 415 then) stated:

"Thank You Al! You SOB!"

That was my early impression of the man who recently transitioned.

I can tell you that growing up in a town like Oakland where a professional sports team left casts a shadow especially over those who remembered that a team once existed. Granted, the SF Forty Niners were becoming an 80s NFL dynasty at that point, and who could forget the USFL's Oakland Invaders? Neither team filled that void the Raiders left. Even though my father vowed never to watch a Raiders game again, I privately held an inner vigil at the possibility of a Raiders return. I followed every rumor about the dissatisfaction of the team in L.A. I may not have followed the games, (Kinda hard when NBC and KRON would black the games out in the SF Market) Hell, I remembered when the school district went on strike, it was revealed that the City of Oakland set aside a few millions in hope of purchasing the Raiders back.

In August 26, 1989 the Oakland Coliseum held an exhibition pre-season game between the Raiders and the then Houston Oilers. Game was sold out in less than two hours and the Raider rumors were in full tilt. For the first time in over ten years, I purchased Raider gear. From that point, I would possess a Raider item of clothing. My Raiders gear purchasing frenzy peaked at the news that the Raiders would indeed return to Oakland in 1990. The shirts would meet the scissors in September of that same year when the team announced that they were staying put in L.A.

I was cautiously excited in 1995. I would not wear any Raiders gear until the first game was played in the Oakland Coliseum. My father watched the game in utter disgust taunting me as a "sucker" if I decided to purchase a ticket to attend any of the game.

I did not attend any games until the Gruden years.

Yup, waiting three seasons before I went to my 1st game. My father scoffed at the idea of a PSL, and passed away less than a year after the return to Oakland. I became a devout Christian within The Salvation Army church in 1995, so my Sundays were "for God." In fact my only visits to the Oakland Coliseum since the Raiders return and before my 1st Raider game were for three different events: Promise Keepers 1995, Promise Keepers 1996, and the Billy Graham Crusade.

There was only one question I consistently asked about the Raiders and towards Al Davis over the years from the move to L.A. to now.

"WHY?"

Why did you leave Oakland when the games were sold out? Why was Marcus Allen benched? Why fire Shell the 1st time when he produced winning seasons, including one trip to the AFC Championship? Why Mike White, Joe Bugel before Gruden? Why trade Gruden? Why why why?

I'll never have those questions answered and people outside of Mr Davis' circle will only speculate, but that's all that is: speculation.

Don't know if the Raiders will remain in Oakland or not. In some ways I've outgrown the ambiance or lack of in the Raider Nation. It hasn't been that fun going to the games these past few seasons and it's not because of the losing record. When my elders attended the games back before the L.A. days, win or lose, they returned home energized. When I attend the Oakland Raiders version 2.0, I return home drained, lethargic regardless of the win/loss outcome. They just weren't the same Raiders of old, yet they were Al's team.

They're still Al's team. That's what makes them The Raiders.

RIP Steve Jobs

We knew the inevitable when Steve Jobs made his announcement last August. (It was on my birthday, August 24 when the announcement was made) We had a suspicion that he was more ill than thought. It all came the day after his successor presented the new Apple items.

I'm not going to argue over how great a contribution Mr Jobs made not only to technology, but to humanity overall. That's been debated over and over on the message boards since August 24 of this year. I won't get into any debate over the definition of what makes a "hero." Within the context of Apple and the high tech industry, he's viewed as one. For those more military-minded, Jobs is viewed as a great innovator but not as a hero per se.

Any great contribution to society is heroic in my eyes period. But then we'd have to define "great," "contribution," and clarify who's included in "society."

So everything is debatable.

I'm typing away right now on my Macbook Pro which is 5 years old. (35 in dog years, 50 in tech years) I've owned 3 different iPods over that period of time. In spite of the announcement of the upcoming release of iPhone 4S, I've held off upgrading my phone this past 3 years on Verizon waiting for the iPhone release. There's no doubt in my mind about how much contribution Mr Jobs made in my life personally.

Today the world grieves over the loss of TWO great innovators and contributors.

As the internet and social media and mainstream media cover the loss of Mr Jobs, there's a second figure we must mourn over. For Steve Jobs transition reminds us of that second figure. In fact anytime a well-known public figure passes on, we recall the legacy of their contribution. (Side note: let us not forget the contributions made to the Civil Rights Movement by Rev Fred Shuttlesworth who passed on earlier today)

No, Rev Shuttlesworth is not that "2nd Figure" I'm referring to.

That Second Figure is the one who's regularly seen in the mirror.

For the past hour and a half, I've been bombarded with status updates and Twitter feeds about the great contributions made by Steve Jobs and I for one will not debate his contributions. His passing means he's no longer physically able to continue creating innovations and contributions. This past 24 hours before it was known about Mr Jobs death, there were unwarranted criticism towards Tim Cook for "not being Steve Jobs." Tim Cook has two main jobs right now: CEO of Apple, and Tim Cook. Let Steve Jobs rest in peace, let Tim Cook be Tim Cook, and let YOU be a GREAT YOU.

We shortchange ourselves in life when we believe we cannot make a significant contribution as a Steve Jobs or as a military hero fighting for freedom. In fact, we not only shortchange ourselves, but those around us. I know people will read this and say "yeah right. (Sarcastically) I'll be as great as Steve Jobs." I'm not saying that we all have the capacity to come up with simple, user-friendly, cutting edge technology devices, I'm saying that the greatness, the contributions within all of us can match and have as much impact as the great contributions made by him.

Mr Jobs passing reminds us of the greatness within each of us, and how we mourn not over the loss of our greatness but the fact that up until this point, our greatness has not outwardly lived. But the good news is that we need not mourn. While we take the time to mourn and reflect over Mr Jobs passing, we have the power to revive and resurrect our greatness. Whether it makes as big an impact as the Late Mr Jobs is totally up to us.

In other words, while we reflect on the impact Steve Jobs made, we overlook the great potential within us to make a dare I say, as great or even a greater impact. Mourning over that Second Figure is always a choice.

"Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything -- all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart. ... Stay hungry. Stay foolish."

-Steve Jobs, Stanford University Commencement 2005

Uninspired Rut

It should be no surprise to anyone who reads my blogs on a regular basis that I've been mainly on hiatus or as my friends would declare, "MIA." It was no accident. The truth to the matter is that I have not been sharing ideas lately.

I simply didn't feel like my ideas would make any sort of significant positive difference.

I didn't want to bother.

While nursing a back injury and not being able to workout and do my physical activities that I enjoy doing, I began to feel self conscious.

My routine consisted of resting my injured back, and if I was lucky enough to be able to walk that day, find my way to Philz Coffee, grab my java, and sat in the back of the corner and read.

What did I read?

Lots of stuff from the New Thought pioneers. I'm a stickler about tracing "roots" of topics that I'm fascinated with. When I began that trek on personal development during my college years, I was only exposed to Napoleon Hill's book Thank and Grow Rich. A lot of the "Self Help" authors, inspirational and wealth seminar instructors all were influenced by the work of the early New Thought pioneers. New Thought got a "bad name," because 1) they were changing the status quo by questioning the then current practices and dogmas of the mainstream Christian churches and 2) their works were often misused as a means to create material wealth and business success.

As inspiring as the work they printed, I was largely unaffected and still within my dark corner. It was not the most easiest period to go through. The auditions and the work seemed to dry up, and I was unable to find work within a more routine setting. Add to that my current physical condition, and I was dangling from a single-layered inspirational thread.

Not that the coffee DIDN'T have caffeine.

There was simply no purpose or direction that I was able to come away with. The books and the authors often repeated in one way or another, "be still and follow your instinct." Yet after several futile attempts, I concluded my instincts soul purpose was to pull pranks and practical jokes on me.

For example, during a silent meditation in the morning, the thought "goldfish market" came to mind. Throughout that afternoon, I sacrificed my reading and java time to visit three aquariums. I left the third aquarium scratching my head in the most utmost confusion. What was the f*cking point to all this? I did my best to "follow inspiration and instinct," yet at the end of the day, I was really regretting not drinking my coffee for the day.

Does anyone really want me to blog about that crap? So sorry I haven't shared much. As stated, I'm sparing my public. I mean why would I blog about going to the aquariums to look at goldfish and leaving in a state of confusion because there was simply no point in going to the damn aquarium in the first place.

I'd type away about lion dance, however I've only participated in the capacity of the percussion section this past month. Nothing to see, nothing exciting. I could rant and rave about drumming onstage with inexperienced cymbal players who didn't play worth a damn, but if anyone was there, their ears would've figured THAT out. It's pointless to dwell on it. If anything about my back dilemma, it's a reminder that "retirement" from actually playing the lion is rapidly approaching, and that may NOT be such a bad thing after all. I'm at an age where I should be watching my little ones learn the fundamentals of the art.

Which leads me to the next thought. I know it'll be a challenge to grow up as my children, especially if they too yearn to perform. I'll be harping on practice, foundation, technique, practice, foundation, technique until their ears bleed. They'll most likely NOT want me to watch any shows with them. I tend to pick it apart.

I miss acting. It's not like I'm not pursuing it, it's more like I haven't really delved deep into a character's role in over a year. It's that studying the script and doing crazy fun exercises in digging deeper about his motives, objectives, thought patterns, attitude, hopes, dreams, even fears.

I keep on saying about my vision in creating this space: physical space with the purpose of creating connection, inspire, feed all mind body and soul, and express artistically. I handpicked three main locations to establish such a space: Oakland, Singapore, and a location TBA in Southeast Asia. Oakland because that place is so special though the mediots and the inhabitants may not realize the specialness. Singapore because from a spiritual standpoint, a space that shares the message of Divine unity with God and each other is so lacking there. As for the third location, I'm bouncing in-between Malaysia and the Philippines.

So yeah, this is what I contemplate during a rut...

I Remember

September 11, 2001

It was my first experience working on a live stage production in the capacity as both a supporting role and as the assistant director. I was warned of "Hell Week" which is what cast and crew refer to as tech week. I was unprepared to the reality that "Hell Week" became literal.

Early Tuesday morning I was awakened by an incoherent voicemail sent by my director. I did not understand anything he said except of the possibility of local San Francisco landmarks possibly getting attacked, and the final statement of "tonight will be business as usual, the show must go on. We'll work on lighting and scene transitions tonight. Make sure the entire cast is present." Afterwards, I received a couple of frantic voicemail and text messages from Singapore making sure my immediate family and myself were fine.

Confused, I turned the television on and saw images of the first plane slamming into the World Trade Center. I changed channels and saw that EVERY channel including MTV and ESPN was showing footage. My initial response was "what the f***???" Later on, images of the Pentagon and a vacant field where two other plane crashed appeared. It really felt like a science fiction movie. My next immediate thought was "I hope to Hell that whoever did this isn't Asian."

I was not born when Japan attacked Pearl Harbor, nor when Kennedy, Malcolm X, or Martin Luther King was assassinated. I joined a protest after the verdict of the Rodney King trail chanting "No Justice, No Peace." I was never prepared for the depth and magnitude 911 created for the entire world.

People who were around during the times of the assassinations of King, Kennedy, and X stated and concluded "things were never the same since then." In my lifetime echos of the same sentiment were loudly declared following September 11, 2001. It's been declared that "we could never go back."

Were we supposed to "go back," and if so, "go back where?" We were never meant to "go back" even if the events of 911 never occurred. So I ask ten years later, "go back to where?"

Do we want to "go back" to the days of our day to day living without color security codes?

Do we want to "go back" to minimal security lines when traveling via air?

Do we want to "go back" to being able to pick up loved ones directly from the gates upon arrival?

Me too.

Ten years later, I ask this question: "why NOT?" Who says we can't go back? We made emotional statements in the aftermath, "the terrorist can't and won't win. Freedom and Love will."

To me, when we "go back" I'll chalk that up as evidence that terrorism "lost."

I've stated this over the past ten years. The War on Terror is not a war we're meant to win. At least not by the way we're fighting it. The so called enemy is not a country, race or religion. It was and always been a state of mind within humanity. When it's humanity, that means it includes you and me. We are also not utilizing the right artillery in this battle either. The best weapon is love. Not the Kumbaya kind of love, not the love we declare when we're horny, not even the love that's used in a term or greeting like "Jesus loves you."

This kind of love is when you're able to look into the eyes of another person regardless of race, religion, gender, sexual orientation and be able to simultaneously see the image and reflection of two beings: yourself and God. That's the love that'll lead the victory march against terror.

Please start now. Ten more years is too long of a time to wait.